


Alive

by lrceleste



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-15 20:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11813802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lrceleste/pseuds/lrceleste
Summary: Over 100 years after the second Omnic crisis humanity has changed its stance on Artificial intelligence and created a new breed of machines, more technologically advanced but also far more controlled than their predecessors.Jesse McCree's job is to take out the machines that go rogue, the ones that get infected, it's a tough job but somebodies got to take care of them, and he guesses it might as well be him.(Hanzo is an android and Jesse is a glorified bounty hunter)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I wanted to make a future AU with some of the guys as human looking robots, but also I wanted the Omnics to still be Omnics. I'm just making this up as I go.

Nowadays it’s harder to find someone without augmentations, 100 years ago it was only people who needed a new limb who got one, now just about anyone can swap out a part they deem less than satisfactory. There’s a price for it of course, one a lot of folks still can’t afford. 

Human’s aren’t the only ones who have changed of course. Artificial intelligence has advanced just as much, to the point where sometimes it can be hard to tell if what you’re looking at is a human that went a bit too far, or one of the newer Machinum models. 

McCree prefers the old Omnics, there are still a lot kicking about, but far fewer than there was even a decade ago. It was easier to see if they’d gone rogue, easier to shut them down for good if they weren’t looking up at you with almost a human face. That was his line of work after all. 

For all his bitterness about the machines he knew there was a reason behind it all. He hadn’t taken the job because he hated them, the hate had come later. After you knew what even the most innocent looking shop keeper droid was capable of, it was hard to look at the world the same way. That was why he still had a job though, because as long as Machs still existed there was a chance they could go wrong, and despite how safe the propaganda claimed they were, they still had a much higher fail rate than humans. 

After all, there weren’t many viruses people could catch that sent them insane.  

Jesse surveyed the abandoned building he stood before, augmented eye scanning for the signal of machines or the heat signature glow of humans. One signal on the fourth floor, no life. Easiest job he’d had in a while. A C2-AL8 unit, an older culinary machine. Worked in a kitchen fine for over a decade, the owner treated it right, gave it a wage and all, then as its chopping up veg it suddenly stops, turns the knife on its owner. Just managed to cut the guy up a little, no damage that won’t heal in the end. Still, it’s a liability.

Obviously, the Mach knows he’s coming, but when he steps onto the floor it stays still, watching him walk closer. It’s modelled after a young woman, Asian, straight black hair that brushes its jaw and no further. In its right hand, it still grips the knife, it’s left arm stops at the elbow, wires hanging from the ending, that wasn’t in the description, must be a new loss. The main difference from the image he’d seen was the tell-tale glowing red eyes, the cliché that proved she was infected.

“You fancy putting down the knife and coming with me quietly,” McCree asks, casually lighting a new cigar. 

He can see the way its body rises and falls with its breaths, a ventilation system that only makes them creepier. Its body stops moving for a moment, only long enough for it to breath out, “No.”

It runs at Jesse, knife held high as it lets out a cry. He sidesteps the Mach as it dives at him, but it’s quickly back on its feet and coming back at him. Whipping his gun from its holster he fires a shot into the bot’s arm. It stops for a moment and then lunges at him. Jesse holds up his arm to deflect the blow, the knife glancing off the metal there. Pulling the taser from his belt and pressing the prongs against the machine’s neck it crumbles under the electrical current, the knife dropping from its hand and the red fading from its eyes. As it reaches out in one last attempt at a fight, it manages to wrap its hand around Jesse’s left arm, and he can almost feel the circuits frying in his augmented arm. Great. 

“You fuck,” he growls, when the Machinum is lying on the ground motionless and he tries to move his left arm. The appendage just hangs limply at his side, sparking. The downside of augmentations.

Leaning down, Jesse scoops up the limp body of the machine and tosses it over his shoulder. 

A shuffle behind him.

Jesse spins quickly, brandishing his gun and aiming it at the new company. A Machinum, and very obviously so. Its face is human, and handsome like every other model, black hair pulled back in a tight bun. The striking difference between it and other bots is its arm, the skin coloured cover that would usually hide the inner workings, to give the illusion of being human, is almost clear. Jesse can see inside the network of blue and yellow wires, almost like veins. Painted onto the clear cover is an intricate blue dragon, snaking around its arm and ending on its exposed chest.

When neither of them make a move Jesse speaks, “Can I help you?”

“Unit C2-AL8 has been dealt with?” The machine asks, Jesse can’t quite place the accent but he’d guess at Japanese. Usually Machinums are given the accent of whatever language they’re speaking, makes the locals feel more comfortable.

“Yeah, I got it,” Jess confirms.

The machine nods, and runs past Jesse, forgoing the stairs and instead vaulting out of one of the fourth storey windows. 

-

Mercy’s specialisation is human’s, like any good doctor she’s branched out a little. But when McCree drops a Machinum on her desk and says, “I’ve got something for you to fix,” she knows it’s out of her expertise. She’s only operated on one Machinum before, never again. 

“Not the bot,” McCree argues when she tries to explain as much for what must be nearing the hundredth time. Instead he holds up his limp arm. “Damn thing fried my circuits.”

“You should really be more careful.”

“Maybe I just wanted to see your pretty face.” Jesse flashes a grin but Angela simply rolls his eyes. They both know she’s taken, and it’s been clarified that they are very much not each other’s type, but it’s a game they’ve always played.

It’s routine now, Jesse sits down in the chair without instruction, rests his arm on the table and Angela goes to work, dismantling the arm and swapping out the parts for the pieces she has lying around.

“What’s going to happen to her?” Mercy asks, gesturing briefly to the Machinum draped over her desk.

“Authorities want it. It’s not often a machine just snaps like that without any warning,” Jesse explains. 

Angela hums and her gaze flicks over to the bot once again, studying it for a moment with a doleful expression. Jesse knows that look, she’d asked him a hundred times before if there wasn’t something they could do to fix infected machines, and he’d told her the same number of times. If there was a cure he wouldn’t be visiting her anymore, there’d be no need for people like him. So, no, there isn’t a cure, not for lack of trying of course. Preventions, cures, special measures, everything that could be done had already been tested, and failed. When a machine was infected there was only one way to deal with it. That’s where he steps in.


	2. Chapter 2

Mercy had fixed him up good, his arm was better than it had been, turns out the parts she’d had ‘lying around’ were state of the art and a real upgrade. Of course, that means he has to do something in return, but it isn’t Angie he has to answer to, it’s her superiors.

He’s given contracts by the authorities from time to time, they have their own teams, MMU’s, or the robot police as many call them. Jesse’s got a tentative relationship with them, they ignore the illegal work he’s doing as long as he helps them using his illegally gained skills when they need it. They’ve just about got him on a leash, but it was how he met Angie and the guys so he agrees to the terms, and supposes that he was the lucky one getting chosen to be their lapdog, if it meant he could operate without worrying.

He was regretting it now though.

An X6-AAJ5, a labourer model, designed for physical activity, and one of the newer ones too. He’d already chased it through half of the city when it crashes through the main door of a high rise, before sprinting up the stairs.

Jesse stands for too long, debating whether to run after the bot or take the elevator. When a ping signals that the elevator has arrived on the floor the second before Jesse made a final decision, his choice was made. The residents that had been milling around let him push through in pursuit of the renegade machine without protest.

Hitting the button with the highest number, Jesse took the moment of reprieve to gather his breath for the fight he was certain was oncoming. The doors open on the floor below the roof terrace just in time for McCree to watch the bot begin the final flight of stairs, and Jesse follows, cursing that the elevator hadn’t been two seconds faster.

“Oh, fuck no,” Jesse mutters between ragged breaths as he reaches the roof, the midday sun way too bright. He stops to watch the Mach run to the edge of the building, preparing to jump the gap onto the adjoining building. No human could make that jump.

Just as the Mach prepares to take its leap, it stops. As it falls onto its back the cause makes itself clear, an arrow protruding from the centre of its forehead, and a man stood before the body, no-… a machine.

As Jesse steps forward the Machinum lowers its bow and slings the hefty labour machine over its shoulder as if it weighs little to nothing. When he’s closer Jesse can see it clearly, a hoodie obscures most of its features, but with the sleeves rolled up to its elbows he can make out the clear arm, with its wire and blue dragon. The same machine that had been on his last hunt.

The Machinum looks at him for a moment, then smiles wryly. “One all.”

“One-… What the hell are you doing up here?” Jesse demands, unnerved by the smile, he’s never seen a machine do that of their own accord. Retail bots smiled to customers, most were programmed to smile and laugh in response to stimulus, to understand what constituted humour. But for a machine to initiate a smile in a situation that was decidedly unfunny, was just… wrong.

“The same as you, I imagine,” The Machinum explains, “Putting an end to an infected machine.”

“Pretty sure bots are armed with anti-violence chips, explain to me why I shouldn’t assume you’re faulty and put a bullet through your head right now,” McCree demands, clicking the safety off peacekeeper and pointing it at the machine.

Now the machine’s smile disappears as it states simply, “it would be in your best interest.”

With that the machine turns, and strides back a few steps, before running forward, the labour bot still slung over his shoulder, and jumping the gap that the bot had been prepared to attempt. He lands it, and runs across the roof to the buildings own staircase without looking back to Jesse.

At any point he could have shot the machine in the back, Jesse is only aware when he lowers his gun. He should have shot. Why didn’t he shoot?

-

A lot of information is missing from the debrief he hands to the supervising officers that demand a play by play of what happened. As far as they’re aware the bot is dealt with, but there’s no body to show for it unless they want to go find it. He doesn’t know why he did it, covering for the Mach, but he knew that eventually it would come to bite him in the ass.

Before he leaves the building he makes sure to check the system, his access is limited at best, and with the number of Machs and Omnics that make their way through here, the electronic security is ridiculous, no way of hacking into their databases. So he does a quick scan, hoping that there might be some information on the mysterious machine. There's nothing as far as he can tell, either because he doesn't have access to that kind of material, or because there simply isn't anything. He's just about exhausted all of the search terms he could possibly think of when he gets a result, not the kind he was hoping for but a result is a result no matter how shitty. 

It comes under his search for 'dragon', understandably its a file on unit G3-NJ1 and McCree's about to write it off when he sees an old photo, the main reason the file had been flagged. Clear casing, for either an arm or a leg, snapped at a point that makes it impossible to tell which, a painted green dragon swirling intricately around the broken appendage. Nothing else in the file hints that there may be a matching blue dragon, not the information he wanted but at the very least it's a possible lead.

No time for standing around contemplating the significance of it though, not when his comm pings and he knows that means there's a hunt waiting for him, it's not often he gets more than one in a day, best not to let it slip away. Plus, he's got a feeling that if his last two hits are anything to go by he might have some competition on his hands.


End file.
